Should I Really be Your Son?
by Gabby-the-elf
Summary: Draco feels like he hates his father. Lucius dislikes his son and can't stand him. Voldamort wants Draco to be one of his Deatheaters before he even turns 16. Narcissa just sits in a corner, debating if she should help her son, or keep her nose out of it.


A/N: I was in a bad mood today, so in order to release my anger, I decided to write.  
  
(How can you see into my eyes? Like open doors? )  
  
He lay there, arms spread apart, and eyes shut. Not knowing that he had been crying. Crying because of the pain. Crying because of... himself. It seemed more like a question than a statement.  
  
(Leading you down into my core, Where I've become so numb. )  
  
No. It wasn't himself he was crying for; it was his father. He immediately became angry at that thought. His father, Lucius Malfoy, was a bastard. 'He doesn't even care for me.' Draco thought to himself.  
  
(Without a soul, My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold. )  
  
Why did he despise his son so? Draco had tried his best to please him, to say the words, 'Great job, my son. I am so proud.' He had been cruel, mean, and closed up from the world around him. Teasing the mudbloods, making fun of the halfbloods, and making himself seem higher than most purebloods that his father felt were weaker than him.  
  
(Until you find it there and lead... it back... home. )  
  
Draco looked around at his surroundings. He was in his room. Dark blue walls with hard wood floors, a four poster bed with dark finished wood and black sheets, a small table to do his homework on, and a dresser to hold clothes. He hated this house. He hated everything about it. The big halls, the empty rooms, the dark corridors that lead to the dungeons. He smiled at that. Memories of times when he was a kid flooded his mind.  
  
_Draco was nearly five years old. He had seen the door that lead down to the dungeons, a place where his father told him to never go. Why he didn't know, but he would soon find out.  
  
He wondered in, like it was an everyday thing for him. Ignoring the anxiousness that filled the pit of his stomach, he looked around. All around were chains and manacles. Many hallways lead off to different rooms. With his child curiosity, he walked down the nearest one.  
  
The hallway seemed to go on forever. Finally, he came to four different hallways that lead off of the one he was on. Three being his favorite number then, he walked down the third one from the left.  
  
Well, after walking down many different hallways for a while, he started to get hungry. Figuring it was time for dinner, he turned around to head back. After getting to the first set of hallways, he got lost. Not knowing which one he came down, he chose the third one from the left. Not panicking yet, he continued doing that, until he felt it has been a long time since his search to get out of there.  
  
Then, he began to panic. Running down the halls, he searched through closed doors, until the search proved fruitless.  
  
Hours had passed since the little boy had first stepped into the dungeon. He felt weak as he stumbled to his knees, scraping them on the stony floor. Tears welled up in his eyes. What was he going to do? His stomach ached, his head hurt, and now his knees were bleeding.  
  
Trying to sit up, he heard silent footsteps coming down the hall. A smile brightened his face as he found new strength to get up. Standing up, he leaned against the wall, the bright smile still upon his pale features.  
  
Slowly, a shadowed figure appeared through the darkness. The smile quickly fell as he saw the angry look across his father's face. Falling to the ground again, he looked at the floor, tears still falling to the ground.  
  
A strong hand gripped his chin and brought his gray eyes to meet his father's stony gray ones.  
  
"Why are you down here?" Lucius asked icily. Not giving his son the chance to answer, he picked him up bridal style and carried him through the halls as if he new them all by heart. When the reached the end, he was carried out of the dungeon and into Lucius's room.  
  
Standing his son on the floor, Draco collapsed to the ground. Lucius took no notice to this.  
  
"Tell me, Draco," He said his name with dripping venom, "do you find the dungeons as amusing as you thought they would be?"  
  
Draco shook his head; the sudden movement made the world spin before him.  
  
"Really, but you just had to go, right?" Lucius asked, raising a slender eyebrow.  
  
Draco once again shook his head. Draco felt his father grab his chin and lift his head. Meeting his eyes, Lucius scowled. He slapped his only son across the face, making his pale cheek flush pink. Draco brought his hand up to his face and rubbed the sore spot.  
  
"Don't you ever lie to me again, boy! Do you understand me?" Lucius hissed. Draco quickly nodded. "Now, I'll ask again. You just had to go, right?" Lucius smirked as Draco nodded, fear evident in his eyes.  
  
"That's a good boy. Now, go clean up for dinner." With that said, he shooed him out of his room.  
  
The next morning, his father rudely awakened Draco.  
  
"Follow me, Draco." Lucius said smugly. Draco obediently followed. When he realized where his father was leading him, he stopped.  
  
"Why have you stopped?" Lucius asked, turning sharply to look at his son. Fear over took his son's face, as he looked upon the door that led down to the dungeon.  
  
"N... nothing, father." Draco stuttered and continued walking. Lucius new his son was scared, and he really didn't care. He needed to be taught a lesson, and this is the only way he can think of. He would make him fear the place so much that he would never enter, or he would make the boy scared of what his father would do if he were caught in there again. 'This boy needs to be taught obedience, and this is how.' Lucius thought to himself.  
  
When the walked through the door, and into the dark room, he could hear his son whimper. He smiled at his son's obvious disliking to the place.  
  
"You wanted to know what was down here, so you'll find out." Lucius said. Grabbing his son's arm harshly, he began to lead him through the damp, dark place. Showing him all of the little tools that were down there, including: whips, chains, spikes, pokers, shackles, cells, and all those lovely torture things.  
  
Wide eyed with fear, Draco tried to pull away from his father's grip to get out of the dreaded dungeon. Lucius never used any of these tools; it was just another place in the house that would always be unoccupied. But now, there was use of it.  
_  
Yes, Draco remembered that day as if it happened yesterday. His father had actually used some of those tools on him. Like the whip. He would always remember when he showed him that. He actually took it out and told him to lie down on the ground. Obeying, he immediately wished he didn't. Feeling the stinging sensation on his back as the whip came into contact with his skin, breaking through the light material that he wore to bed.  
  
(Wake me up inside! (Can't wake up.) )  
  
Draco slowly drifted off into an uneasy sleep, echoes of the words that his father had told him earlier that night, echoing through his head.  
  
(Wake me up inside! (Save me!) Call my name and save me from the dark. Bid my blood to run. (Can't wake up.) Before I come undone (Save me!) Save me from the nothing I've become. )  
  
A/N: You like. There are probably only two more chapters. My father wants me to go with him to the store, so I had to end here. Hope you like. R&R. Bye.

P.S. All the words in parenthesis are some lyrics from Evanescence called 'Bring me to life.' The rest of the lyrics will be in the next chapter.


End file.
